


A Body to Keep Us Warm

by estelraca



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Hypothermia, Team Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission, but nothing ever goes as it should.  Unfortunately the thing an injured Cassian needs most--warmth--is the thing K-2SO is least equipped to offer.  If he can get Cassian to the others in time, though, K-2SO is certain they'll be able to do what he can't.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malachibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malachibi/gifts).



> This was written for the Fight Back Fic Auction, for the prompt of Cassian being hypothermic and the others helping, with K-2SO being unable to assist due to droids sadly not being endothermic.
> 
> I'm continuing to offer fics for the auction, so if you like this or any of my other work please consider contacting me on my Tumblr or here.

_A Body to Keep Us Warm_

"I screwed up." Cassian stumbles, his words slurred almost to the point of incomprehensibility.

K-2SO reaches out, taking hold of Cassian's shoulder, trying to ensure he stays upright.

Cassian hisses, his breath fogging in the frigid air, the ice crystals in his beard quickly turning to little ice-stalactites.

"Apologies." K-2 almost releases Cassian, but he's afraid if he does Cassian will go face-first into one of the snowdrifts they're picking their way between. Given that Cassian's internal temperature already seems to be dropping dangerously low, K-2 decides that touching the areas where bruising is likely spreading is the lesser of two evils. He makes sure to keep his assisting hands away from Cassian's broken wrist, though, wanting to hurt him as little as possible. "But you seem to be going into shock and having difficulty ambulating."

Cassian's head shakes, a repetitive motion that K-2 finds disconcerting. He continues moving forward, though, plowing ahead with single-minded determination. "Screwed up. Should've shot. _Would've_ shot. Should've. Would've. Sh-should—"

Cassian slips. It's not a surprise, not really—there is ice everywhere, layered with snow like some kind of horrible confection. K-2's assistance keeps Cassian from sliding down into one of the dunes, but despite K-2 holding him upright Cassian doesn't seem able to get his feet back under him. After about thirty seconds he sags limp in K-2's grip, his head drooping down.

"Cassian?" K-2 doesn't shake the limp form in his arms, though he thinks he finally understands why fleshlings tend to do that when coming upon injured comrades. "Cassian, are you—"

"Should've." Cassian mumbles the word in Basic before his speech deteriorates into something else.

K-2 doesn't bother trying to follow what language Cassian might be speaking. If he's not speaking Basic to K-2, he's not really _speaking_ at all. He's just repeating flashes of code that are triggering without rhyme or reason, his internal computing system misfiring badly due to the damage its shell has taken.

For one point three seconds K-2 debates what his options are. He's been avoiding carrying Cassian because his exterior temperature dropped below that which can cause damage to human skin over an hour ago. So long as Cassian was able to move under his own power, the risk of harming him wasn't worth the small amount of added speed. With Cassian unable to walk himself...

They are less than half a kilometer from their rendezvous point. If he can get Cassian there, hopefully the rest of Rogue One will have procured sources of heat. Provided they haven't gone through all the medkits already with whatever injuries they sustained themselves, they can place a bacta patch around Cassian's wrist—or, more likely, his ribs, because K-2 can feel things _shifting_ as he lifts Cassian in a way he's fairly certain they're not supposed to.

(The probability of success is only—the probability of success doesn't matter. This course of action gives a higher probability of Cassian surviving than any others K-2 can think of, so he will take it.)

Cassian grunts (he never whines, never whimpers, no matter how badly he's hurt, as though afraid showing signs of injury will decrease the probability of survival). His eyes flutter open, focusing on K-2's face plate in confusion. "K...?"

"Yes, Cassian?" K-2 has the human's body suspended between his arms, one limb under Cassian's legs, one supporting his back. Cassian's hood is attempting to slide away from his head, and K-2 regrets not having a third arm or teeth or anything else that would make it possible for him to fix the problem. Cassian's thermal signature is almost as low as that of his protective clothing already.

"Screwed up." Cassian squirms in K's hold, trying to move his shivering body closer to K-2's chassis. "M-mission. Sh-should've..."

"Cassian, you cannot move closer to me." K-2's eyes flicker without his permission, and he continues pushing his way through the deepening snow. "I am currently at a temperature that is inimical to your survival."

"Is all right." Cassian smiles, and light refracts through the icicles around his mouth. Some contain more of a red hue than others, and it doesn't take K-2 more than a millisecond to verify that there is blood mixed into some of the frozen water. From Cassian's lungs? From his mouth—did he cut his tongue or gums when he fell?

Most likely from skin that's cracked due to the hostile atmosphere of this planet—no, this _portion_ of a planet, because the sun-facing part is actually quite hospitable to human life right now. _This_ part of the world will be quite hospitable to human life in another month or two. K-2 runs the probabilities and uses them to comfort himself as Cassian's eyes slide closed again.

Are Cassian's breaths coming more slowly? K-2 does quick calculations, trying to reassure himself that they aren't. They are, perhaps, more _shallow_ now, less fog with each breath, but they seem to be coming at the same rate.

Cassian shifts again, an unexpected change in mass orientation, and K-2 almost drops him. "Cassian, please. You must remain still."

"Is all right." Cassian shifts again, closer to K-2, but this time the droid is ready for the motion. "I trust you."

"I know." The words come out softer than K-2 had intended. "That doesn't negate the fact that you are badly injured, I am at a sub-optimal temperature to help ensure your survival, and your human _wiggling_ is not assisting in your transport."

"You're not sub-timal. Good temprature. Warm." Cassian once more shifts his weight, and his hood falls all the way off, exposing too much of his face to the elements.

Exposing too much of his face to _K-2_ , Cassian resting his head against K-2's chassis, and K-2 comes to an immediate halt. He has only seconds to decide on a course of action—drop Cassian into the snow, so he can adjust the human's protective gear; try to roll Cassian down his arms; do nothing and allow Cassian to scald himself against K-2's body.

They're all terrible choices, but the one _least_ likely to result in permanent harm is a controlled fall, so K-2 turns and allows his burden to tumble down into a drift as high as K-2's chest. The snow does as he had hoped, cushioning Cassian's fall, and the adrenaline rush seems to have brought a bit more clarity to Cassian's eyes as K-2 proceeds to immediately dig his companion back _out_ of the drift.

"K..." Cassian blinks at him, using his gloved good hand to touch his cheek where an angry red welt is already forming. Once that's done he hastily rearranges his protective gear. "I'm... in bad... shape, huh?"

K-2 wipes snow away from Cassian's outer layer of clothing, though he knows it will make little difference, and then gathers Cassian into his arms again to continue their journey. "You are hypothermic. That's the worst of your injuries. You know how poorly your kind handle working in sub-optimal temperatures."

Cassian doesn't fight him this time, settling easily into K-2's hold and allowing himself to be carried, his winter gear providing a cushion between the cold radiating out from K-2's body and Cassian's too-fragile human shell. "Probability... of survival?"

K-2 does the calculation in under a second, though he waits for three before answering. "Probability of survival is ninety-nine point eight percent. We are very near the others. You will be repaired very soon, Cassian."

The noise that Cassian makes in response is hard to categorize, but it seems pleased. A few seconds later Cassian's body goes limp, the calm, uncaring rest of the unconscious or comatose claiming him.

(It was a lie. Should he be able to lie? He has never been good at it. Usually Cassian can see through his lies in moments. But Cassian isn't processing anywhere near optimum right now, so perhaps...

Or maybe it's because it's not _quite_ a lie. Probability calculations have a tendency to break down around Rogue One. They should by all rights have perished at Scarif, every single one of them, and yet here they are. Given precedent... yes, that's it. Cassian didn't recognize the number for a lie because it _isn't_ a lie, just an astandard calculation based on historical events.)

K-2 continues walking, using his GPS function to ensure they're traveling in the proper direction, and hopes that Jyn and the others have been able to complete their tasks.

XXX

Jyn rubs her hands together over the portable heater, feeling returning in stinging nettles. "This is... the second worst assignment... we've ever gotten."

"Careful how loud you say that." Baze doesn't look up from where he's ensuring their ghost-white environmental containment unit stays firmly in place despite the storm howling stronger and stronger outside. "Or they'll find somewhere worse to send us."

"How do you get worse than this?" Jyn gestures with her head towards the flap of crossed material that serves as a door.

"Many ways." Chirrut seems far too cheerful as he unpacks their scant luggage, laying out the first aid supplies in one pile and their rations for this reconnaissance expedition in another. "The air here is breathable. Though the temperature's a bit inhospitable, the snow lacks corrosive properties. There doesn't appear to be any large hostile wildlife, and—"

"All right. Point taken." Jyn huddles a little bit closer to the heater. "Though I think you two have an unfair advantage. You're used to cold."

Bodhi nods his agreement with Jyn, his arms wrapped around his chest, body hunched in on the central axis in a picture of misery.

"We have experienced our fair share of chilly nights and inhospitable cold weather." Chirrut's smile takes on a slightly wistful edge, and Jyn wonders if she should have refrained from mentioning Jedha.

"There can be positive aspects to it, though." Baze, apparently satisfied that they aren't going to be crushed in their sleep or wake to find that the habitat has sprung a leak, moves to hunker down next to Chirrut. "Provided you actually like the people you go through it with, at least. If you don't—"

"Jyn!"

Jyn blinks, tilting her head, trying to decide if she really just heard her name called or if it was the wind bending oddly around their shelter. Cassian should be getting back soon, but it didn't sound like his voice, and—

"Guardians! Bodhi! Jyn!"

This time the voice is clearer, and Jyn immediately begins scrambling back into her protective outer layers. She doesn't cinch them up properly—that's K-2SO's voice, she's sure of it, and if she didn't know better she'd say he's absolutely terrified.

Jyn is out the door while Bodhi is still blinking towards the noise and Baze is still shrugging into his jacket and grabbing his gun, a blaster clenched tight in her right hand. If Cassian's been captured—if their position has already been compromised—

Circles of light loom out of the darkness, and Jyn just manages to refrain from shooting at the snow-covered droid. "K-2, what's—"

K-2 begins speaking, a swift babble of words, but the bundle he thrusts into Jyn's arms takes away her ability to understand what he's saying. Snow is sticking to Cassian's skin, forming small clumps, not melting like it should. His chest is rising and falling, but it's a shallow, slow motion that doesn't seem like nearly enough to keep him alive.

Cold.

Jyn shivers, her own body responding to the unforgiving atmosphere, and the motion breaks her out of her shock. Cassian's been hurt, somehow, but it's also clear that he's far too cold, and she needs to get him warmed up _now_.

He isn't conscious at all, not able to help her move him, but they're only two steps outside the Rogue One habitat, and Baze's hands are there after the first one to help her do what's necessary. Jyn lets him drag Cassian the rest of the way into the tent, and then turns to K-2. "Come on!"

K-2 shakes his head. "I have acclimated to the temperature. If I were to enter it would take a great deal of the ambient energy being generated to warm me to an acceptable level. Focus on Cassian first. Please."

It's the closest Jyn thinks she's ever heard the droid come to begging, and she suspects she'll be haunted by the sight of those glowing eyes in the deepening darkness, but she does what he asks.

Baze has already dragged Cassian as close to the heater as he can, is busy stripping Cassian's jacket and boots and snow trousers off. Chirrut follows in Baze's wake, his fingers questing up and down Cassian's body, his head lowering to rest against Cassian's chest. Bodhi hovers nervously, having grabbed one of the medkits.

"Right wrist fractured in at least two places." Chirrut carefully arranges the injured limb so that it's straight, Cassian's fingers pointed towards the ceiling. "At least two cracked ribs on the right side, but I don't think the lung was punctured. What kind of adventure did you get into, dear captain?"

Cassian doesn't answer, lying still and lifeless. The snow and ice has started to melt off his face, at least, though it still seems to be taking far too long.

"Jyn." Chirrut's voice is firm. "Grab a blanket and take any extraneous clothing off. Bodhi, put the bandages on the heater, you're going to help me wrap his ribs."

Jyn moves to obey and then pauses, blinking. "I... what?"

"Cassian is quite literally freezing to death. We need to warm him. Ideally a warm bacta tank or at least a warm bath would do the trick, but since we don't have something like that available, we'll have to make do." Chirrut continues his analysis of Cassian, hands never resting. "Put the blanket on the heater when I have Bodhi remove the bandages. When it's warm, it's going around the two of you. Or the five of us. However we can arrange it so that there's maximum heat transfer. Nasty burn on the right cheek. That's going to sting when you wake up, my friend. Possible injury to the right rotator cuff—we'll need to be careful moving him. Which we're doing now. Bodhi..."

Placing two blankets on the heater, Jyn proceeds to strip out of her winter gear, piling it haphazardly in a corner. Bodhi follows Chirrut's instructions, wrapping warm bandages tightly around Cassian's ribs.

"Internal injuries?" Baze has stripped out of his own gear. Grabbing the blanket that had been directly on the heater, he presses it against Cassian's chest and abdomen, leaving the other blanket to warm.

Chirrut sits back on his heels. "Not that I can tell, but he's flickering. Come here, Jyn. Bodhi, put another blanket on the heater."

Jyn moves to Chirrut's side, her mouth dry, everything looking too sharp and clear.

With a combination of strength and grace that Jyn has come to expect, Chirrut lifts Cassian's upper body, settling him against Jyn. Jyn instinctively wraps her arms around him, hissing as the combination of Cassian's ice-cold skin and the heat of the blanket strike her at the same time.

Settling down on Cassian's left hand side, closer to her, another source of warmth, Chirrut begins rubbing vigorously at Cassian's arm. "Bodhi, sit in front of me, do what you can to warm his legs."

Shaking out the two warm blankets, Baze moves to Jyn's other side, draping first one and then the other around the five of them, forming a little tent of warmth. The heat would be unbearably stifling if not for Cassian's still, chill form, and Jyn chafes her hand up and down Cassian's left side, pressing her cheek against his in an effort to transfer even more warmth.

They stay like that for two, three, four minutes. Without prompting Baze pulls the blanket from against Cassian's chest and passes it to Chirrut, who sets it atop the heater again. Once it's warmed again to Chirrut's specifications, he returns it to Cassian, this time bundling it up against his abdomen.

"Come on, captain." Chirrut's voice is grim, the first hint of doubt in it as he continues to chafe at Cassian's arm. "You have to fight with us on this one."

"Cassian." Jyn's heart pounds hard in her chest as she whispers Cassian's name into his ear. Her hair is plastered to her neck with sweat, and liquid is starting to trickle down her sides, but Cassian hasn't so much as shivered yet. "Please."

Baze strokes a hand over Cassian's hair, though he doesn't say anything.

Bodhi, too, is silent, though Jyn thinks she sees tears in his eyes as he continues to work at warming Cassian's legs.

Another minute, then two, and finally, _finally_ Cassian starts to shiver. At first it's just a faint tremor in his hands. Then his shoulders start to shudder, his body almost seeming to fight against Jyn's hold. Within another minute Cassian is blinking, violent shivers running up and down his whole form, disrupting their little blanket-circle.

"J-Jyn?" The fingers of Cassian's left hand trace over hers, his head turning just slightly so that he can eye her. "B-bodhi? Ch-chirrut? B-baze?"

"All present and accounted for." Chirrut smiles serenely, pulling the blanket away from Cassian's stomach and once more laying it atop the heater. "Welcome back, captain."

"Where d-did..." Cassian frowns, struggling to sit up under his own power. Jyn helps, shifting him so that he's sitting between her and Baze, the two of them propping him up so he doesn't collapse.

"We aren't entirely sure what happened. K-2SO brought you in." Chirrut hands the blanket to Jyn, who arranges it over Cassian's abdomen and thighs, trying to keep the warmth spreading out.

Cassian frowns, his head ducking down. "I... f-fucked up. We n-need... ch-check... p-perimeter..."

Now that he's started shivering he doesn't seem able to stop, and Jyn tries to stay close to him without getting head-butted or shoulder-checked in the teeth for her efforts.

Baze rises, reaching for his cold-weather gear, somehow neatly stacked near the door. "I'll do a quick sweep. But I doubt anyone or anything followed you, not with the way the weather's looking."

Bodhi slides into the space that Baze vacated, helping Jyn keep Cassian upright. "It's all right. We'll take care of it."

Chirrut nods from where he's begun heating water. "Should the weather prove not enough to disincline uninvited guests, I suspect Rogue One's hospitality will convince them this isn't where they want to be."

Jyn reaches out to gently touch Cassian's knee. Now that blood seems to have started flowing to his extremities again, she can see bruises coming up in angry red along his right cheek and the right side of his neck. His right wrist is swollen as well as bruised, and she suspects his clothes and bandages are hiding more bruises. "What happened?"

For a moment she thinks Cassian won't answer her, or perhaps _can't_ answer, the violent shivers still wracking his frame making it impossible. Then he shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the ground. "There was... a b-boy. He s-saw me. Doing r-reconnaissance on the base. I should have..."

There's such despair in Cassian's voice, such utter hopelessness, that Jyn finds herself putting her arm around his shoulders. Bodhi has wrapped his arm around Cassian's waist, leaving him sandwiched between the two of them.

"You... killed him?" Bodhi's voice is tight, strained. "The child?"

"I th-thought about it. Had my b-blaster out. Sh-should have." Cassian closes his eyes, and Jyn can't tell if he's shivering or rocking now. "W-would have. B-but... couldn't. Couldn't."

Chirrut settles down in front of them, holding a steaming cup of water up to Cassian's lips. "I believe you're still in shock, captain. Bodhi, can you look through the medkit, see what you can find? A short-acting glucocorticoid, I think. Cassian, will you drink this for me?"

Jyn thinks Cassian's going to refuse, at first, but then his shoulders slump and he allows Chirrut to help him drink.

Bodhi returns a moment later with two syringes in hand. Jyn looks them over, giving her completely incompetent medical opinion. Given Rogue One's tendency to end up in situations like this, maybe they should all take a more in-depth course on first aid in the field. Assuming they ever spend enough time on base and not confined to medical to allow for it, at least.

Cassian's shivering seems to ease a bit as he drinks the warm water, though he sags harder and harder against Jyn as the shudders fade.

Bodhi looks like he's going to pass out as he injects the medication into Cassian's shoulder, fumbling the syringe back towards the med kit when he's done. When he returns to his place at Cassian's side, Jyn's not sure who's shivering worse.

Jyn runs a gentle hand through Cassian's hair, debating whether or not she should ask him to continue. They need to know what happened, especially if the mission's potentially compromised, but it's clear speaking about it hurts Cassian.

She ends up not having to make a decision. Cassian straightens a bit on his own, though his whole right side seems stiff and uncomfortable. "There was a boy. I didn't shoot him. He s-sounded the alarm. I th-thought I was far enough away to e-escape. Someone was... good shot. I was on the c-cliff. Took out my f-foothold. Fell. Would've fallen further, but... K-2. Retreated. S-storm."

Cassian's eyes don't seem to be focusing on them anymore, the lids half-shut.

"Come." Chirrut takes Cassian's unbroken hand in his. "Let's get you some rest."

Between Chirrut, Bodhi, and Jyn they manage to get Cassian settled down in front of the heater, his right wrist splinted.

"One of us should be with him all night, I think." Chirrut speaks quietly, though Jyn's half-convinced they could set off a proximity mine without startling Cassian right now. "Just to be safe."

"Nothing else is life-threatening, right?" Bodhi's hand reaches towards Cassian, his eyes wide and troubled. "Mainly just the cold?"

Chirrut nods. "Everything else is likely quite painful, but the cold was what was killing him. Still. It never hurts to remind a body that there are people who want it to keep functioning."

Jyn glances at Bodhi. "You or me first?"

Bodhi chews on his bottom lip. "You first, I think."

Jyn nods, settling herself behind Cassian's form, curling her body around his. Small shivers still wrack his frame despite the almost cloying heat that's gathered inside their habitat. "I'm here, Cassian. It's all right."

"Should've..." The word is more an exhalation, the fingers of Cassian's good hand finding hers and holding on tight.

"No." Jyn feathers a kiss against the corner of his jaw. "Not if just thinking about it hurts you this much."

"Mission..." Cassian shifts restlessly, stopping with a little gasp and breathing shallowly for a few seconds after. "Rogue... One..."

"We're fine." Jyn resists the urge to hug him tighter, knowing it will hurt. Instead she tries even harder to meld her body to his where they're huddled together under the blanket. "It's all right, Cassian. I swear."

"All right..." The words are a breathy whisper, Cassian's fingers tracing over hers. "All right..."

"That's right." Jyn presses her nose to the back of Cassian's neck. "So rest. Recover. And we'll see what we need to worry about in the morning."

It doesn't take long for Cassian's breathing to take on the even cadence of sleep. Jyn doesn't allow herself to fall asleep despite her breathing taking on the same rhythm, continuing to murmur reassurances in his ear, trying to keep the nightmares that will be sure to come at bay.

XXX

K-2SO waits just outside the confines of the human habitation, straining his auditory processors to pick up every hint of sound. Chirrut's assessment of Cassian's condition mirrors his own, and he nods in agreement as the humans go about cataloging Cassian's injuries and treating the life-threatening hypothermia.

When they settle down to wait, he has already been waiting for three point seven nine minutes, still and helpless.

When Cassian finally wakes, finally _speaks_...

K-2SO lacks the capacity to cry. It would be wasted on a droid, after all. It's a silly fleshling approach to handling stressful situations, unlikely to result in anything actually improving.

He would be crying now, if he were able.

There is something wrong in his code. There has been something wrong in his code for a long time. It started shortly after he met Cassian, when he first realized Cassian depended on and trusted him despite what he is. It seems to have multiplied with the creation of Rogue One.

It's not something K-2SO wants to have diagnostics run on.

Cassian is worrying about the tactical gaffe he may have made. K-2SO could reassure him that no one has followed, but before he has time to process the benefits versus the risks of drawing the attention of his human teammates Baze is emerging from the habitat.

Baze peers out at K-2, his eyes basically the only thing visible through his protective gear, his cannon strapped to his back.

"We weren't followed." K-2 offers the information cheerfully. "I'm quite certain of it."

Baze grunts. "I'm going to do a quick check anyway."

"Caution? From Rogue One?" K-2 uses his best approximation of a human chuckle. "Command won't know what to do about that."

"Heh." Baze plunges out into the snow, making a slow, careful circuit of their camp. He uses a hand-held sensor; K-2 stretches out his own sensors, searching for any sign of other life-forms in the snow and finding nothing.

When Baze returns to the front of the habitat, he stamps and shakes, sending a small flurry of white down around himself. "He's going to be all right."

"Cassian?" K-2SO schools his voice to impassivity. "From what I hear he seems to be recovering nicely."

Baze is silent for several seconds. "You saved his life."

"He's saved mine before." K-2 offers the excuse in an offhand manner.

"Sure you don't want to come in?" Baze nods towards their enclosure.

K-2 allows his eyes to flash. "Do you believe that would be wise, Baze?"

Baze's eyes rake up and down K-2's body, and he sighs. "Once we're sure Cassian's stable, we can get you warmed up, too."

"I am not uncomfortable. I can withstand sub-freezing temperatures for many days without undue damage." He just can't touch the others on the team when he's in that condition—couldn't provide what Cassian needed most in order to survive.

"Huh." Baze nods, and enters the habitat, a brief, sparkling puff of warm air out into the freezing night.

K-2 returns to his vigil, keeping his auditory circuits trained to pick up both anything that could indicate Cassian's voice and anything that might indicate trouble.

He's unprepared for an assault with a warm blanket, and finds himself sputtering in surprise as it pools around his head, unable to respond before Baze has pulled the flaps of the door shut again.

"Foolish waste of resources." K-2SO grumbles to himself, arranging the blanket as a canopy above his head after brushing as much snow away as possible.

He stays at his post, blanket over his head, for the rest of the night, providing what protection he can for his team.

XXX

Cassian sleeps badly.

It's probably more drifting in and out of consciousness than sleeping, but the effect is the same. If the others weren't there... if he didn't have their voices to ground himself on when disjointed fragments of battle give way to agony give way to the necessity for _action_ , no matter how terrible...

Jyn sings him lullabies. He doesn't recognize most of them, but he doesn't need to. There's a simple cadence to the songs people sing for children that makes them almost universally recognizable. A part of him wants to protest that it isn't necessary, that he's fine, that he's not so bad off he needs to be treated like a helpless child. That involves stringing words together into something like a sentence, though, and the melodies are soothing even if the words sometimes don't make sense, so he lets them hold the nightmares at bay and just soaks in Jyn's warmth and concern in equal measures.

Baze tells him stories. They're not always very nice stories, but they're the types of stories Cassian understands. They're soldiers' stories, tales of embarrassment for friends, death for foes, serendipity making everything come together at just the right moments. Cassian's not sure he actually hears any of them start to finish, but he doesn't need to. There's always the same start, the set-up of someone just trying to keep on surviving in a world that gets madder by the day. There's always the same ending, Imperials dead and one of Baze's friends only half-dressed among the corpses. There are a surprising number of stories about Chirrut thrown in. Or maybe not so surprising, given how closely attached Baze is to Chirrut, but Cassian finds it hard to imagine how Chirrut ended up naked in the center of an Imperial barracks not once but _twice_.

Or maybe that only happened once and Baze is repeating stories. Cassian wouldn't put it past him, but questioning it involves far more coherency than he's capable of right now.

Bodhi talks to him about the stars. Cassian knows a little bit. Everyone with any pilot training knows at least a little bit, because sometimes physics knowledge is the difference between tumbling yourself into a black hole or not. Bodhi was properly trained, unlike Cassian, learning the book-work and then having an apprenticeship, and he knows more than Cassian would have dreamed possible. He describes it in terms and details that Cassian doesn't think he found in any books, though, a kind of hesitant poetry that makes his love of the stars and the ships that navigate them shine through. Cassian knows he couldn't repeat any of what Bodhi's said, not with any clarity, but for a few hours he dreams of flying instead of falling, laughing instead of killing, and that's a far more precious gift.

Chirrut chants. Cassian should have expected that— _would_ have expected that, if his mind were working properly. _We are one with the Force and the Force is with us._ Does it matter that he changed the words of the chant? Does it matter that Cassian's still not sure he believes in the Force, no matter what he's seen from Chirrut, no matter what Skywalker claims to have done?

"Even..." Cassian sputters out the word into the darkness, everyone else having bedded down, too. "If there is... a Force... would a man... like me..." His teeth are chattering together too badly for him to finish the thought. His _thoughts_ are chattering together too badly for him to be certain there even _was_ an end to it at one point.

Chirrut's hand runs through his hair, trails over his chest, being careful not to touch Cassian's injuries. "We are one with the Force and the Force is with us, Captain. Always. Especially when we strive to break our prison walls."

Cassian sleeps after that, Chirrut's steady chanting becoming a lullaby that wraps him in a calm Cassian is certain he doesn't deserve but cherishes anyway.

XXX

When Cassian wakes in the morning, he feels terrible.

It's a different type of terrible, though. It's a type of terrible where he's able to catalog his aches and injuries; where he's able to assess his situation; where he's able to analyze the body pressed against his back, determining before he moves that it's Jyn and he isn't in any trouble.

He's going to survive, then. With a few more scars, a few more aches to twinge and remind him of his failures at the most inopportune times, but still. He's going to live.

"Cassian?" Jyn yawns as she says his name, making it almost incomprehensible. "You awake this time?"

"That depends on... what you mean... by awake." Cassian shifts a little and then decides that's a terrible idea, his whole right side protesting vehemently.

"Oh." Jyn presses just a little tighter to his back, her breath hitching slightly. "Say another coherent sentence so I can really start relaxing."

"The Imperials... will be... looking for us." Cassian glances up, at the illumination squeezing its way through the habitat's ceiling. "Assuming... storm stopped."

"Storm stopped." Baze comes into view, a pot of water in hand, apparently busy preparing rations for them. "No Imps spotted yet, though. We'll eat, see how mobile you are, and think about moving. Though given the severity of the storm, I bet your tracks were covered. Doubt they'll find us here."

"Which means..." Chirrut comes forward, too, making it so Cassian doesn't have to decide if he wants to attempt sitting up in an effort to view all the people involved in the conversation. "We may still be able to pull off this reconnaissance."

"Though _you_..." A hand very gently touches Cassian's shoulder, and he shifts his eyes to see Bodhi, kneeling now by Cassian's head. "Are confined to base until we get a proper medic to look at you."

"I'll be fine." Cassian sits up, moving slowly in an effort not to show how much it hurts. He still needs Jyn and Bodhi's hands to keep from collapsing back down onto the mat the others had arranged him on last night. "More stiff and sore than anything else."

Chirrut nods, picking up a cup of tea and sipping from it. "Broken things do tend to be stiff and sore."

"I..." Cassian bites back his angry retort, looking down at the brace on his right wrist, feeling the wrapping around his ribs that is making breathing tight but much more bearable than it otherwise would be. Fury turns to bitter ashes in his mouth. "I'm sorry. For screwing up."

"We don't..." Bodhi reaches out again, his fingertips glancing across Cassian's good shoulder this time. "I don't think any of us are angry at you?"

Cassian's gaze flits around the tent. Baze seems more interested in the gruel he's preparing for breakfast—obviously enough for all of them—than the conversation. Chirrut just continues to sip his tea. Jyn and Bodhi are hovering over him, clearly more concerned than angry.

Is that what Cassian wants? Or does he want them to be mad? And what is it that he wants them to be angry about—that he didn't shoot, or that he came so close to doing it?

Jyn's head rests against his shoulder. "There's a reason we don't like you taking missions alone, Cassian."

Cassian frowns, puzzled, not certain how that's supposed to connect to the rest of the conversation.

"I'm glad." Bodhi looks at his hands rather than Cassian's face, but his fingers tighten on Cassian's shoulder, making it clear he's being sincere. "If it was a choice between you killing some kid who doesn't have any choice where they've ended up and... and..."

"I could have died." Cassian lifts his good hand to cover Bodhi's. "I _should_ have died. And I could have taken all of you with me. Given away who knows what about the Rebellion. I could have—I could have—"

Maybe he's not quite as recovered as he had thought, because the world tilts alarmingly, his vision tunneling out to grey.

"But you didn't." Jyn murmurs the words in his ear, and both she and Bodhi have their arms wrapped around him again. When did it become so comforting, having people—no, not people, _these_ people—inside his personal space, where they could easily hurt him?

"You wouldn't." Bodhi's voice is steady and certain. "I know you wouldn't. You're too... you _believe_ too much to hurt the rebellion. I think you'd find a way to kill yourself first."

"But you didn't have to." Chirrut hasn't moved, still sipping his tea. "And hopefully you won't have to in the future, captain. Not when you have a team like us that you can depend on."

Chirrut smiles, but Cassian can't seem to find any hint of falsehood in the expression.

Baze finally moves, scooping a heaping pile of porridge into a bowl. Normally the big man serves Chirrut first; this time he moves to Cassian's side, taking his good hand and placing the bowl firmly in it. "In ten minutes I'm taking Jyn out to start reconnaissance."

Cassian's definitely still addled, because he finds himself unsure what to say in return.

Jyn reaches around him, taking the spoon and lifting it towards Cassian's mouth. "Guess that means we all better eat, huh?"

Seeing no point in arguing, Cassian settles the bowl in his lap and takes the spoon from Jyn, determined to at least be capable enough to feed himself.

XXX

K-2SO is left in control of the camp perimeter when Baze, Jyn, and Bodhi leave to carry out their mission—or at least start carrying out their mission. If they're to do everything they were asked, they'll be here for several days at least, scouting Imperial bases, and K-2SO had overheard them arguing about whether they should extract to care for Cassian before that or not.

K-2 keeps his own counsel, though he knows what Cassian would say. The mission comes first. The rebellion comes first. If Cassian managed to get himself injured, he can wait a little bit to get himself patched up.

K-2's own feeling on the matter are... complicated. He can understand Cassian's reasoning, especially now that the life-threatening danger has passed. On the other hand... he wants Cassian returned to full function as quickly as possible.

"K-2." Cassian's hoarse voice calls from the open door of the habitat, which he is keeping propped up. "Come in and warm up."

K-2 hesitates. "That seems to be a waste of resources at the moment. If I exit the habitat, I will immediately begin shedding the thermal energy absorbed rather than—"

"Get in here." Cassian allows the flap to fall closed. "And bring the blanket with you!"

Whirring his gears in irritation, K-2SO enters the shelter. Of course he'll bring the blanket with him. What kind of barbarian does Cassian think he is?

Cassian is huddled down by the heat source when K-2 enters. Chirrut is also present, chanting quietly to himself in the corner, his unseeing eyes turned away to give them a bit of privacy. K-2 elects to stay near the back of the enclosure, not wanting to approach Cassian until some of the chill has faded from his metal body.

"I owe you again." Cassian glances up at K-2, the cold burn on his cheek standing out bright red, blisters already breaking open. "Thank you."

K-2 shakes his head, not able to move his visual processors away from the burn. "You don't owe me, Cassian. If I had reacted faster, predicted probabilities more accurately, I could have—"

Cassian puts a hand to his lips, and K-2 falls silent. Has Cassian heard something? Is there a threat that—

Cassian moves, limping badly on the right side. He settles down next to K-2, a blanket from near the heater in hand. Draping the blanket across K-2's upper body, Cassian settles down against him with a sigh.

K-2 watches the human, temporarily at a loss for words. "Cassian, this is very foolish, you know."

"Maybe." Cassian's eyes are drifting closed already, his body's internal diagnostics and repair functions apparently draining his reserves quickly. "Don't care. Maybe sometimes... sometimes you are supposed to be foolish. Because we are one in the Force and the Force is with us."

"You don't believe in the Force, and even if you did, I am a droid. Droids are unable to access the Force." K-2 reaches out, running his fingers gently over the top of Cassian's head, careful only to touch hair.

"Don't care. Doesn't matter." Cassian's eyes are closed now, his breathing evening out into resting patterns. "Believe in Rogue One. And they believe in me. Even when I screw up."

K-2SO repeats the motion with his hand, pleased to see Cassian turn his head to allow better access. "Sometimes it isn't screwing up. Sometimes it's just the lack of an adequate answer to a difficult problem."

Cassian is already asleep. Given that K-2 is loathe to move the human, this is going to make keeping watch rather difficult.

Chirrut rises from his chant, feeling his way along the wall of the habitat until he encounters his own protective gear. "I'll keep watch. You watch the comms."

K-2 studies the Guardian. "You are blind. And human."

"Yes." Chirrut bundles into his gear with surprising speed, kicking his staff into the air and catching it easily when he's done. "You can relieve me in an hour or two, when he's awake."

Chirrut exits the habitat, leaving K-2 and Cassian.

K-2 considers his sleeping human. "For what it's worth, Cassian... I'll do whatever I can to save you every time."

Cassian seems to smile in his sleep, just a little bit, and the motion causes warmth to seep through K-2 faster than the ambient temperature can account for.


End file.
